


A lesson in equality

by Steena



Series: Maintaining peace [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Megatron, Fingering, Optimus topping, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steena/pseuds/Steena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus little experiment left Megatron wondering about what more the Autobot can do. Someone pushes him in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lesson in equality

**Author's Note:**

> We needed some smut and voilà! Smut happened. Of course it did, how could Megatron live with all that ust?

Megatron came out of recharge with a gasping invent. He found a HUD message about his interface panel being open, systems ready and he could feel the slick lubricant on his thighs and the wetness on the berth. His optics fell on the damned calendar. Oh, he knew exactly what _that_ defrag had been about.  


Hesitantly, he flared his plating, letting his talons slip between the seams. Popping the covers over his chest couplings, he experimentally poked it and hissed at the sensation of current streaming through his cable network. He started picking at them, trying to remember what Prime had done. It felt good, but not nearly like what the red and blue mech had accomplished.

One servo slid down his ventral plates and he prodded his valve awkwardly. Despite his age, this was new territory. Interfacing had always been about using someone else's valve and, impatient bastard that he was, he had never been much about priming his conquests. He touched the anterior node and jerked involuntarily. It was intense but felt good and he kept rubbing it, the talons on his chest port growing bolder and tweaking it. It was just a matter of seconds before his valve clenched and he shook in a shallow overload.

It felt good, but it wasn't nearly enough. Reaching for his spike, Megatron resigned to go back into charted territory to try to get rid of some of the charge.

****

Soundwave looked at the Decepticon leader across the table and spiraled the light on his visor in a very rolleyes kind of motion.

Megatron was twitchy in his seat, bouncing his legs and picking at his talons. Starscream droned on and on about their current holdings, plausible opportunities at gaining income, the status of the ongoing work on their quarters and so on and so forth. Apparently, Megatron had other issues that bothered him more.

And Sounwave knew exactly what. He didn't need to be a telepath to know. There had always been tension between Lord Megatron and the Prime. The way they always sought out each other in the battlefield, yet never actually ending each other. And now, with the peace, came a tentative tolerance. After that drunk and disorderly night, thanks to his abilities to hack and monitor he had enjoyed _that_ immensely, Megatron seemed to have relaxed. He had talked to the Autobot leader on several occasions and they seemed to be, if not friends, at least accepting acquaintances.

But then the calendar showed up and the glorious leader changed his behavior. Soundwave studied him closely but stealthily and he was certain that Megatron hadn't noticed, that the leader thought he covered his issues well. He didn't fool Soundwave though. Even if Soundwave had been unable to hear, through the wall between their quarters, the many times Megatron had come out of recharge with his cooling fans roaring, he would still see Megatron's lack of concentration. Like now, in this meeting.

There were other signs too. He was more inclined to touch, just little shoulder bumps, leading others with a servo on their back and such. The others responded unconsciously, getting a little closer, returning the touches. And if that wasn't enough, a discreet scan had told Soundwave all he needed to know about the state of their leaders systems. As the humans would say: Megatron was horny as hell.

Apparently he couldn't solve the issue himself. If anybot else on the base could, it wouldn't be a problem. But, since that didn't seem likely to happen, Soundwave found that, once again, it seemed to be up to him to nudge everything along in the right direction.

Starscream was wrapping up his report and everybot seemed relieved. Megatron was out of the room first of all, making the seeker glare daggers at his back. Soundwave hurried after him.

"Permission to speak?"

Megatron waved his hand. "No need to be so formal, Soundwave."

"Megatron: go interface with Prime."

The fearsome Decepticon sputtered an invent and his engine hiccupped. "Say what?!"

"Soundwave: sees issue. Needs to be solved. Megatron: needs to get off."

"But... I... Huh. How did you know?" Megatron couldn't come up with anything to say to the blunt spy."

"Soundwave: hear fitful recharge. Megatron: unfocused. Activity in sensors: heightened. Temperature: heightened. Production of lubricant: heightened. EM field projection: similar to turbofox in heat. Olfactory system: picking up pheromones suggesting readiness to interface."

If Megatron was human, he would have blushed. As it was, his frame heated and he was vocalizer-smacked. Soundwave studied him for endless moments and he refused the urge to squirm. Almost.

"Megatron: solve issue or somebot here will pick up on it. Then you will be fragged into the floor."

It wasn't a threat. His TIC was _right_. Megatron _knew_ that the others were picking up on his needyness. Especially the seekers were sniffing around like mechanimals but Blackout had actually been the most forward so far. The tall helo had caught him off guard in the mess hall, sliding a servo suggestively over Megatron's hip plate before grabbing it roughly, his other servo splaying between Megatron's shoulder plates and pressing hard to bend him over the frelling table. Blackout had pressed his hips against his leader's with a metallic clang from the impact, powerful engine growling. When he snapped out of the heated daze, the confused helicopter had backed off, apologized extensively and snuck away with his rotors drooping and Megatron couldn't find it in himself to be angry with the mech, partially because he had been fighting his own frame's insistence on just giving in to the strong mech.

Megatron dipped his helm once to show Soundwave that he acknowledged the mortifying observation.

Now he needed an excuse to seek out the Prime and then he could just hope that he would be able to get him into a berth.

Or he better not be picking up the solvent in the washracks.

****

A proximity alert sounded through the Autobot base. Optimus went to the surveillance room. Not that he was worried about the Decepticons nowadays, but old habits 'n' all that. Skywarp and Jazz materialized outside the door as he arrived.

"Ain't me this time. I've been here a while." Skywarp grinned.

"I can vouch for that." Jazz pointed to some paint transfers and waggled his eyebrows.

Optimus resisted the urge to roll his optics and headed inside.

"It's Old Megsy." Jazz said, looking at the monitor.

"Finally!" Skywarp exclaimed.

Optimus didn't miss the sly look that passed between the odd couple in front of him but he didn't have time to question it. The sound of powerful thrusters heralded the approach of the warlord and he headed outside.

The large mech looked comically alike a deer caught in the headlights when Optimus stepped through the door.

"Megatron. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Uhm. I... Just wanted to check in. It's been a while." He seemed flustered.

Optimus just motioned for him to follow him inside, leading him to their comm center. They rounded a corner and stopped short. Jazz had Skywarp pressed up against the wall, Warp's legs wrapped around his narrow waist and he rocked slowly against the pinned mech. The mewling that left the seeker's vocalizer told Optimus that if they weren't already fragging, he couldn't tell from that angle, _thank you Primus for small miracles,_ they soon would be.

"For pit's sake, this isn't a porn studio! Do that in your own quarters!" He shouted.

There was a 'whop' and the two lovebirds were thankfully out of sight.

"Sorry about that. They get a little out of hand sometimes." He glanced at Megatron. "On the other hand, in your culture this might be common, hm? Public interfacing, I mean."

"No. Nothing quite like _that_."

Optimus heard the warframe stepping down his cooling fans a few notches. _Interesting._

"I have some better alcohol this time if you are interested." He offered, motioning to the Decepticon to have a seat.

"I am willing to try."

Optimus snorted. Well, the last time hadn't been enjoyable taste wise.

"Will and his team gave it to me after the moonshine incident. Told me I deserved to know how higher quality alcohol taste." He poured two cubes, handing one to Megatron.

They sipped in thoughtful silence.

"It's better, but still... weird." Megatron decided.

"Agreed. It's a little weaker too. The stuff my team did was really strong. And wrong." Optimus rolled his optics. It had been an... _interesting_ night.

"Well, it _was_ kind of funny. If nothing else, it brought or factions closer. Very close, considering the mechs in the hallway."

"Those two seems to get off on doing it in public. I could probably find enough on our surveillance videos to make a sellable porno." Optimus made a face. "Skywarp made a prank out of warping them mid-interface to the tabletop in the rec room. They landed on top of a game of poker, Jazz still buried to the hilt in Skywarp. I thought Wheelie would never shut up about it."

"Is that the next step? After the calendar, I mean." It came out less goading and more curious than Megatron had intended it and his fans clicked on again. Optimus raised an optic ridge. The warlord looked flustered again.

"I never figured Skywarp would submit like that. But it was quite obvious that he enjoyed it in the hallway." Megatron blurted.

Deflection from his own reaction. _Interesting_.

"What do you mean 'submit'?" Optimus wasn't going to let this go. He was intrigued. _Why was the warlord here again?_

"You know, allowing somebot to spike him? Isn't that submitting? Allowing somebot to take their pleasure from your frame." Megatron sounded bewildered.

"The mech that's doing the spiking could choose to give as much as he receive. Or more. You make it sound as if the one using their valve is supposed to be a passive participant, barely more than an inanimate object perfectly shaped for fucking." Optimus was more than a little peeved. Was this how the Decepticons saw interfacing? He even slipped into earth-lingo. "As if the mech getting fucked shouldn't expect to enjoy it. And if he did, it's because he's no better than _shareware_ , just _waiting_ for any and every spike he can get."

"Weeell..." The warlord shifted around uncomfortably, rubbing his neck struts.

And Optimus pounced at the blatant insecurity and vulnerability.

"Then I will happily inform you that Jazz is nothing short of _spectacular_ in berth. No matter if he uses fingers, glossa, spike or valve, he's straight up fragging fantastic."

And that, right there, was totally worth revealing one of his earlier endeavors in berth. And on the floor. In the washracks. A cave...

Because Megatron's optics looked like saucers, jaw plate hanging slack and all composure blown to smithereens.

Optimus leaned back, calm as a summer day, waiting for the Decepticon to process the information. He sipped his drink. Megatron sat back in the couch.

****

The sight of his fearsome seeker shamelessly being reduced to a pleading mess, not only _allowing_ the Autobot spy to spike him, but clearly enjoying it too, had been an eye-opener. Because for the first time in his functioning, Megatron's interfacing protocols were insistent about opening his _valve cover_ any time his thoughts drifted to interfacing in general and Optimus in particular. Which was all the time.

He could have none of that in his home base though. The mere idea of the leader of the Decepticons rubbing up on his subordinates like a petrorabbit in heat was just... Ugh. _The politics_. Well, Blackout probably would see it as a service, but even he had showed surprisingly rough tendencies. And that was a seriously intimidating mech, were he to lose control and give in to baser urges.

But to hear the implication that the Prime had been spiked by his subordinates and enjoyed it, that really made him think.

"I guess, maybe you Autobots aren't as tied up and hindered by traditions, rituals and rank as we Decepticons like to think. Skywarp seemed to enjoy it..." Again, the cooling fans. Megatron dialed them down

Optimus just nodded once, fixing that piercing blue stare on him and Megatron shifted uncomfortably. The Prime's optics brightened for a second, as if he realized something, and then his faceplates shifted into that knowing smirk. 

Suddenly, he stood from his chair. Megatron startled at the sudden movement. The Prime stalked over to the couch in a predatory crouch. He settled sideways next to Megatron, one long leg folded under him and leaned in closer.

"Why are you here again?" The Autobot's voice was a low purr.

"I...Ah...I...umh..."

"So..." A blunt digit dragged along a seam in Megatron's thigh plating, optics roving the smooth metal. "... _eloquent_." He hissed the last word, optics snapping up to meet Megatron's as that digit dipped into the seam at the hip joint.

Megatron's engine stuttered. _Cue my treasonous cooling fans._ His intakes hitched. _And my interface plating._ Optimus leered as the panel unlocked and relocked when Megatron overrode the automatic response quickly but not quickly enough. Embarrassment had his cooling pump working overtime.

"Huh. Guess your frame is better at displaying intentions than your vocalizer is."

He stopped tweaking the joint and moved his hand to Megatron's chest plates, coaxing to get a digit under it. It flared automatically and Megatron didn't stop it. A panel popped and clever fingers rubbed a coupling. The intense sensation had him jerking, charge building fast, making his frame tingle.

"Why are you here?"

A garbled moan laced with static was all that left Megatron's voice box. His helm lolled back, thumping at the back of the couch and he felt his knees fall to the side, splaying his legs. Optimus rumbled a laugh that was pure sin. He pinched the coupling, earning a startled yelp, and slipped his other servo across Megatron's abdominal plating. A finger and a thumb slipped into a seam on the lower plating that had widened if it's own accord and pinched a bunch of wires. The charge rushed to his valve, leaving him with an uncomfortable buzzing heat. He could feel the lubricant seeping out around the cover.

"Why are you here?" Optimus retracted his servos.

It was a much needed break and it was a paus he didn't want. Megatron squashed the urge to get down on his servos and knees and _beg_ like a mechanimal.

"This, _just this._ "

"What do you want?" The Prime seemed elated at having the upper hand.

"You, I want you. I want you to frag me." Megatron rushed the words, getting them out before he lost his courage.

To his credit, Optimus didn't gloat. Instead he leaned closer, returning his servos to sliding along seams in plating and dipping in to pluck with wires and cables. Megatron's optics offlined of their own accord, his vents stuttering. Something slick slid across his chest port and his optics onlined simultaneously as his servo reached up to push at Optimus' helm, trying to get more contact from his glossa.

Prime got up, just to kneel on the floor between the warframe's pedes, his glossa working over every seam on Megatron's lower torso. Clever fingers traced his interface panel and Megatron found himself keening. It was too much and yet not enough. His panel retracted. Optimus just circled the array, dipping his fingers into the juncture at the hip joint again and it made Megatron grunt in frustration. He couldn't remember a time that he had been this aroused ever.

Then Prime slid a finger through the lubricant pooling in the slit of his valve and Megatron could do nothing to stop his hips from jerking.

"So _eager_..." Prime's voice was a low purr and Megatron stifled a moan from just hearing the sound.

A single flick of his anterior node had him keening in a way he never thought he would, a wanton sound that would be downright humiliating if his processors hadn't been so busy with being incoherent.

Optimus circled that digit that Megatron was starting to think was a gift from Primus along the rim of the valve, brushing over the node again and Megatron yelled from the touch, trying to grind down on that finger. He looked down at the Autobot who had a smug half smile on his faceplates, and though he'd dreamt about having the Prime kneeling in front of him countless times over the eons, this was nothing like what he had pictured. In those fantasies, he had been standing tall and strong, using the Prime's intake with his spike, a harsh grip on a sensitive audial. Instead he was splayed out like a pleasurebot, on the brink of begging. It was oddly arousing.

Then Prime rubbed his node again and that string of thought was drowned out in the chaotic haze of his sensor net sending enough input to make warnings pop up in his HUD. He felt a long digit slide into his valve and the light stretch almost made him overload. The heel of Optimus servo pressed lightly on his node as that finger slid deeper, making his legs twitch, his hips jerk and Megatron heard a mewling leave him. _He was so close yet Prime just kept him there on the brink!_

And then Prime froze. Megatron wailed in frustration.

"Sadistic fragger!"

A ghost of a smile pulled on the corner of the Prime's mouth before he turned serious again.

"You still have seals. Are they replacements or is it the original ones."

"Original." He had somehow forgotten about those. And now Prime knew his inexperience. Embarrassment flushed his frame.

"I see."

Prime worked his finger a couple of times, making Megatron twitch, and then he pressed in further. Megatron grunted at the discomfort.

"I can't do anything about them to prepare you. The rest, I can stretch, but poking the seals will just be uncomfortable and won't do you any good. And if we interface it will hurt."

"You think I can't handle a little pain? I can take it." Getting "the talk" from the Autobot was mortifying. He covered up his embarrassment with his usual abrasiveness.

Optimus frowned at first but then that lascivious grin was back.

"This isn't about what 'you can or cannot take.' This is about you getting nothing more than what I decide to graciously give you."

Before he could retort, Optimus lifted Megatron's hips and dragged the warframe deeper into the couch until his aft almost hung over the edge, pushing one leg to the side and hitching the other over his shoulder. He leaned down and dragged his glossa along the slit of Megatron's valve. Megatron bucked with a gasping invent.

The Primes glossa pressed down on the anterior node, lapping lazily, and a second digit slid into Megatron's valve. The warlord's servos roamed his own frame, one rubbing his chest port, the other sliding down to end up playing with the Prime's audial fin, the only part of the Autobot he could reach. Optimus sucked in his anterior node and his back strut arched of it's own accord.

"Yes yes yes, don't stop, _never_ stop _"_ Megatron heard himself uttering incoherent begging. _When had he turned into a talker?_

His charge was building fast now and his hips were jerking as he tried to get more friction. Optimus increased the speed, working his fingers in a smooth slide in his valve. Then Megatron's frame went stiff as he teetered on the brink until a last flick of that skilled glossa over his anterior node sent him into the most powerful overload he'd ever had and everything went black.

He rebooted, systems coming online slowly, to see Optimus watching him, still kneeling on the floor. Megatron's sensors registered that he was still sliding his fingers languorously in and out of Megatron's valve and even though his frame felt strutless, his interface systems started up again. He groaned at the delicious slide, stray current making his entire frame twitch as the wicked Prime flicked his anterior node once.

"That was... something else." He stated.

Prime smirked. "First valve overload?"

Megatron thought about that pathetic little thing he'd managed to give himself and decided that _that_ didn't count.

"Yes."

"Well, there will be plenty more."

Before the warlord could even conjure up a reply, Prime started working his anterior node again and Megatron found himself writhing. It was too much too soon and it was close to uncomfortable yet it felt _so good_. Another finger joined the two in his valve and he hissed at the burning stretch that both hurt and brought a wonderful sensation of fullness. His systems were fully back online now and he could feel his charge building again. His back arched and then Prime stopped, pulled his fingers out and stood.

Megatron growled.

"Get up." The Prime looked amused and Megatron wanted to punch him in the face.

"There's cameras in here. We're taking this somewhere else."

It made perfect sense, if you didn't count what the Prime had just done. Megatron scowled but Optimus just smirked, obviously satisfied with making the Decepticon leader lose track of where he was to a point of mewling like a slut on camera. Despite that, Megatron stood. His legs felt wobbly. He followed Optimus to the door, the Autobot glancing at him over his shoulder.

"You might want to close that." He gestured to Megatron's array before ushering the Decepticon through the door.

_Right._ He had been too distracted to realize that his panel was still open. _Awkward._

They didn't make it far down the hallway until he realized that the charge still coursing through his array, his sensors being amped up and registering _all_ friction as touch, made him walk funny, trying not to humiliate himself with overloading from just walking. _Wonderful._ The amusement projected through the Autobot's EM field had him glancing over his shoulder, noticing the Prime's wicked smirk. The fragger enjoyed this.

And just when Megatron thought it couldn't get worse, they rounded a corner and came face to face with Jazz and Skywarp. Both mechs turned to look at them, Skywarp snickering knowingly as he took in the telltale movements and appearance of his leader, optics lingering on the lower part of his frame. Suddenly self-conscious, Megatron looked down, realizing his thighs were stained with lubricant.

"Way to go, Prime." Skywarp purred, casting an approving look at the smug Autobot.

Megatron scowled at him.

"Don't worry, Megs, you're in _very_ good servos." Jazz leered.

"You two: not another word." Prime growled dangerously.

The edge in Optimus'voice sent a delicious shudder down Megatron's back strut. To his surprise, Skywarp grabbed Jazz and with a 'whop' they were gone. _Huh_. _Prime had some serious authority if even Skywarp obeyed._ In spite of this, he inwardly cursed that he would probably never live this down. He continued down the hallway, Optimus just behind him.

And then the Autobot grabbed his hip plate roughly. Catching him off guard, Megatron was easily mechhandled up against the wall, Optimus pinning his servos on each side of his helm and grinding his hip against Megatron's hot interface plate. That skilled glossa dipped between flared plating on his shoulders, assaulting Megatron's sensors until he couldn't process straight.

Somewhere, in a slightly clearer corner of his processor, Megatron noted that it was highly likely that the hallway was covered by surveillance cameras but the notion couldn't stop the moan that left his vocalizer, nor did it abort his knees buckling to grind down on the thigh Optimus had slotted between his legs.

Then the door next to them opened and Prime pushed him inside, somehow managing to insistently leading him to the berth without stopping his assault with his fingers and intake, drawing a hiss from the warlord as he nipped at the energon lines in his neck.

Something hit Megatron in the back of his knees and he tumbled back, landing on the soft berth but he was given no respite: Optimus was on him in hundreds of a second and scooted him further onto the berth, not stopping the nipping and sucking on sensitive necklines. Megatron tipped his legs as far apart as possible, quite aware of how willingly he was surrendering to the Prime but he didn't care any more. Deft fingers only touched his interface panels and he opened instantly, bucking up to get some friction. No more games of not wanting this.

"So impatient." Prime chuckled but heeded his silent plea, slipping two digits inside and rubbing his anterior node with his thumb while he settled between his thighs.

Finally in a position to reach the blue and red mech, Megatron explored seams in the Prime's armor like he never had before. He was clumsy from inexperience and distracted from the expert treatment from the Prime but every little approving grunt he got from Optimus felt like a small victory.

Then he heard a panel pop and Megatron just _knew_ what panel it was. Optimus sat back on his knees between Megatron's thighs and looked at him with hunger in his entire demeanor. Megatron's muddled processor cleared when he saw Optimus' servo gliding up and down his fully pressurized spike, slicking it with the lube from Megatron's valve and his own pre-transfluid. _That thing was huge!_

Somewhere he'd known that, Optimus frame being around the the same size as his, it should be approximately as big as Megatron's own spike. Knowing in the back of one's processor and being presented with the equipment in question was two completely different things.

_How would that even begin to fit?!_ He felt stretched and full with just three fingers... A strange feeling churned in his tanks and his spark seemed to hammer in it's chamber. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Megatron was nervous.

"Don't look so worried. I'll make this as good as possible."

Megatron just grunted and exvented slowly. Optimus rubbed the tip of his spike along the slit of Megatron's valve, spreading the lubricant and making Megatron's hips jerk again. Then he slipped the tip in slightly and at the same time he rubbed the anterior node. The sensation almost shorted Megatron's processor. Prime held still for a few seconds, then he slid out, just to slide back in a tiny bit further.

The burning was back as he stretched the valve but Megatron found it a pleasurable discomfort. The simultaneous flicking of his anterior node and the slow, shallow thrusts had his frame writhing and jerking of it's own accord. His cooling fans were roaring and his vents came rapidly and erratically.

Prime smoothed his hands from Megatron's hips, up his sides and along his arms, letting his digits graze every seam they could follow in the slow but firm touch. He leaned in, tracing the seams at the top of Megatron's chest armor with his glossa and the warlord stretched his neckstruts, giving him more access.

Quick as any earthly rattlesnake sidewinding the desert, Optimus pinned Megatron's wrists at the sides of his helm, bit down harshly on the main energon line and buried himself to the hilt in his valve.

Megatron cried out in shocked pain. The warlord had lived through getting arms and legs torn from his frame, had died and been resurrected, shot more times than he dared to count but this... _this_ was pure _agony._ Megatron was absolutely certain that he was splitting down the middle, that something inside was rupturing. He tried to trash, to get away but Prime had him well and truly pinned and all he could do was whine pathetically.

It seemed like forever, but eventually the screaming pain subsided, giving way to a dull ache and that burning stretch and he relaxed slightly. It was enough for Optimus to let go of his wrists, instead lacing their digits, and starting to soothe the bite with a gentle glossa.

"You OK?" He asked between strokes with his glossa.

"I guess..." Megatron trailed off because... _was he?_

"I'm sorry. This was the best way. Otherwise I'd have to go through the seals slowly and that would hurt no less, just drag the pain out longer. I'm not a sadist."

Megatron grunted an acknowledgement, not questioning why he'd been pinned and bitten. He would have retaliated what could be registered as an attack automatically if he'd been free to move and the Prime probably knew that.

"Tell me when I can move."

And with that, Optimus slipped a servo between them, rubbing at his node. That clever glossa found Megatron's chest port and with an arch of his back strut, the pain was lost in the haze again.

Optimus held true to what he said, he just worked with his digits and his glossa until Megatron found himself writhing underneath the 'bot.

"Move, fraggit, _move!_ "

"That's no way to ask nicely. Try again." Prime purred and his deep voice brought a shivver of pleasure to Megatron's frame. It didn't stop him from glaring. Or trying to, he really looked more pleading.

" _Please,_ Prime. I would _love it_ if you were so kind as to move." It might have been a tad sarcastic.

And move he did. Long, slow strokes, almost pulling all the way out, just to push in to carefully nudging the ceiling node in Megatron's valve. The warlord was quickly coming apart, charge building until it crackled all over his frame. The overload sent him into an abrupt reboot to stop his systems from crashing.

But the Prime was nowhere near finished with him. As soon as his optics cycled back on, the Autobot nudged and coaxed him to get onto his knees and servos. The new angle teased the sensors in his valve in a different way and they were cranked up to maximum sensitivity after the first overload.

Megatron's arms were shaking with strain, his legs would be too, but Prime helt his hips in a firm grip, keeping him from toppling over. He was really too strutless to continue but Prime's grip was unrelenting and Megatron could do nothing but keen as a new charge started building. He gave in to his shaky arms, resting his chest on his fisted servos, faceplates against the soft berth, knowing _exactly_ what it looked like but unable to care.

Optimus drove into him faster and harder now, grunting in pleasure and Megatron felt the charge crackle between them. He was so close, yet the overload kept eluding him, lack of energy keeping him teetering on the brink. Until Prime leaned forward, covering his frame, reaching around him to keep him in place, and rubbed at his anterior node. It was all it took. Optimus released his own charge at the same time with a deep growl and Megatron heard himself mewl and moan as transfluid filled up his valve.

He was finally allowed to fall strutless to the berth. Optimus rolled off him and laid on his side next to him, softly dragging his digits up and down Megatron's back strut. Megatron just basked in the complete relaxation of his frame and the silence in his processor for a few moments before he flipped over onto his back. Optimus kept tracing the seams in his ventral plating absentmindedly. Megatron cycled his optics closed and took note of his frame: the dull ache in his valve. His HUD told him that he had a minimal energon leak, probably from the broken seals. His complete lack of annoying overcharge. He fleetingly wondered if the war would have ended sooner if he'd done this before. He felt oddly at ease. Content. No edgy anger right now. No energy for it.

He slitted one optic when Optimus got up, leaning over him and he gasped in surprise when the Autobot slipped his glossa into the sheath of his spike. His spike twitched and a HUD message requested to pressurize it.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think I have the energy for _that_ right now." He raised an optic ridge. _Was the other mech serious?!_

"Oh, you don't need to do much. I plan on _taking_ my pleasure from your frame." That wicked purr again. "But don't worry, I feel generous enough to make sure you enjoy it."

And with that, he sucked lightly on the sheath, dipping his glossa inside again and rolling it around the sensitive tip of the spike. Megatron groaned with pleasure and couldn't have stopped his spike from pressurizing if his life depended on it. Optimus slowly took almost the entire length into his intake, rolling and lapping it with his glossa. Megatron's optics cycled shut again. This was the most wonderful thing anybot had ever done with his spike. That Prime was willing to do _this_ was above and beyond anything he ever had fantasized about.

Then Prime moaned and the vibrations sent his charge rising and made his hips jerk. He looked down at the mech. He had moved to kneel next to Megatron on the berth and he was... _he was touching himself._ His curled up position made it impossible for Megatron to see more than where his servo was but the movements were telling, he had to be playing with his valve. Prime moaned again and Megatron found himself wishing that he could pull those sounds from the stoic Autobot.

He didn't know _how_ , though. What little he'd tried on himself had been inadequate at best and he felt self-conscious about it. He didn't want to show even more how inexperienced he was. _Fraggit, he didn't want to be slag in berth_.

Optimus straddled him and sank down a few inches at a time, slowly rocking up and down. The slow movements built Megatron's charge higher and he mewled again, something the Prime was embarrassingly good at making him do. He looked up at the mech in question. Optimus challengingly looked him straight in the optics and slid one servo down his own ventral plating, settling it between his leg struts. That look, and the act in itself, might have been enough to make Megatron overload, had he not already been so well fucked, as the humans would put it. _Who would've thought the Prime was good enough to be in a fragvideo?_

Optimus unashamedly rubbed the faintly glowing node, lit with a LED in a dim, blue tone and his calipers clenched around Megatron's spike, drawing a matching moan from the warlord. Megatron realized that whatever they had been doing tonight, Optimus was topping through it all. Even when using his intake or his valve, he was still in charge. Yet the Autobot had coaxed more overloads from him than he had ever had before. Because he _wanted_ to. Because he wasn't ashamed of what he did now, nor was he inconsiderate enough to get himself off without thinking about the other participant.

He stared at Prime's deft fingers working and curiosity won out over his insecurity.

"Can I...?" His servo hanging indecisively in the air between the two of them, sharp talons transforming into blunter digits.

Optimus just removed his servo with a nod of encouragement. Megatron lightly rubbed his thumb across Optimus' node, the Prime hissing in approval. The warlord's confidence grew and he tried to remember what Optimus had done before. Optimus increased the pace in his up and down slide, optics half shuttered.

"Harder."

Optimus basically ordered and Megatron obeyed, increasing the pressure with his thumb. Optimus threw his helm back with a loud moan, the most sparkfelt sound Megatron had ever pulled from anybot before and it heightened his charge, making it crackle between them. The calipers in Optimus' valve started to flutter and Megatron groaned. This was nothing like the pleasurebots or when he had fragged one of his subordinates.

A smirk ghosted across Optimus' lipplates and he leaned back, still grinding his hips. Megatron's optics widened when two digits slipped into his valve, Optimus rubbing his node at the same time. It was all too much at once and he overloaded instantly, his release pulling the Prime with him over the edge and with their charges streaming back and forth between their systems, Megatron felt himself short out and every system online started shutting down quickly. Everything went black with the calipers in Optimus'valve still coaxing transfluid out of his spike.

****

Optimus scanned the warlord. He was in temporary stasis, but his systems was slowly rebooting. He should slip into recharge soon.

Optimus walked on unsteady legs to his storage unit in the corner, getting a few cloths and returned to the mech sprawled on his berth. He wiped Megatron down before he did the same with his own frame, studying the warlord.

They should have done this before. _This was way overdue._ He was surprised that Megatron was...well, outright inexperienced really. But it had been a pleasurable experience nonetheless and Optimus wasn't opposed to doing it again.

He scanned the mech again. Normal recharge. Slightly low fuel levels. Optimus left the room, heading for the washracks. He wanted a quick shower and manage to pick up some energon and return before Megatron onlined again.

He almost made it to the washracks. He reached for the doorhandle when the door swung open and Skywarp and Jazz stepped out. Frozen in his step with his hand hanging uselessly midair, he cursed inwardly and briefly wondered if those two were stalking him. Skywarp raised a questioning optic ridge.

"So, where is tall dark and fearsome, bossbot?" Jazz smirked.

"Recharging." _Keep the details to a bare minimum._

"Huh. So, did you get to frag him?" Skywarp grinned.

"Yes."

"Did you shut him down before he went into recharge?"

Jazz smirked and Optimus knew he was well and truly slagged. The spy knew him all too well to be fooled.

"Yes." He mumbled.

"Way to go, boss!" Jazz actually fistpumped. "You did that thing with your fingers when you took his spike?"

Optimus glared at his spy. _Ex spy?_ Eyed Skywarp who for once seemed at a loss for words. Glared at Jazz again, then sighed.

"Yep. Got him into stasis but his systems has rebooted and he went into recharge." Somewhere, deep down, Optimus was smug and proud. He wouldn't admit it, though.

"I _told him_ he was in good servos!" Jazz exclaimed, excited enough to give the impression _he_ was the one to frag fragging _Megatron_ into fragging stasis.

Skywarp stared, incredulous, back and forth between his Autobot and the Prime.

"You fragged mighty Lord Megatron into stasis?!"

"Told you the Prime is wicked in berth. He's the one who taught me." Jazz grinned at the seeker.

"You know I love you with all my spark, Jazz, but can I please try _him_ just once?" Skywarp looked at Optimus, starstruck.

"Well, I'm not the jealous type but do you really think old Megs will be willing to share?" Jazz winked at his better? Worse? Half.

Optics shook his helm. _Were they_ really _bartering_ him _?_ He looked Skywarp up and down.

" _Megatron_ has no say in this..." He trailed off, giving the seeker a predatory grin, inwardly fistpumping  when the Decepticon took an instinctive step back. "Now, if you excuse me, gentlemechs, I'll go clean up."

He entered the washracks with a self-satisfied smile, hearing the distinct sound of Jazz cuffing his seeker on the back of his helm.

 

 


End file.
